Love Can Heal A Soldier
by PassionatelyHiddlestoned
Summary: World War 1 is raging. Lady Sybil Crawley is working as a nurse at Downton, and James Nicholls is a captain in the army. But when James is badly injured, he is taken into care with the rest of the soldiers at Downton, and the their lives collide. Is this affection possible, or will social standing and obligations blind their growing passion for each other?
1. Chapter 1

Guns went off all around him. Men were falling, horses as well.

The smell of gunpowder and fear hung heavily in the air, and Captain James Nicholls kept charging on the back of his chestnut brown steed, Joey.

He held his glinting silver sword firmly forward, cutting the throats of any opposition that passed.

He fought the nervous feeling about the day that he had growing inside of him, pushing it away from his conscious mind. He was a soldier, and this is what soldiers did.

But he knew something would happen. He didn't know where, he didn't know when. But ever since he had yelled out the single word, 'Charge!' he had a sickening feeling that something would occur.

At least I don't have a family or a wife at home, he thought, to grieve for me…

He shook his head as he galloped on. Stop thinking this way… you have as fair a chance of getting out of this as anyone!

People whizzed by him in a blur, and the sun began to rise over the distant hills. He felt compelled to look up at the enemy gunners, to see who they were facing.

His eyes scanned the enemy attack line, crouched behind the hill at the entrance to the forest.

Suddenly, his eyes stopped on one. One gun was set directly for him.

He gulped, and his breath became rapid. This was it. This is the moment he knew was coming. And there was nothing he could do but watch the fire of the gun and feel the impact of the bullet in him.

His back hit the ground with a forceful smack, and with a soundless moan, he rolled onto his side. Horses jumped over him, and the roaring sound of hooves around him was overwhelming and echoing in his eardrums.

He clutched his side, where the bullet had gone through, and looked down at the wound.

There was blood pouring out in large quantities, and pain so unbearable running up and down his left leg that it made him cringe. His breath wheezed and he arched in pain. He held his hand against his middle to stop the blood, but he knew his actions wouldn't make a difference on his own.

He looked up at the morning sky, blue and clear now. He held his other arm above him to shield him from the trampling horses, as if it would do any good. His eyelids began to droop, and his sight began to cut out from the trauma.

Sky.

Black.

Sky.

Black.

The last thing he heard was a man yelling, but Captain Nicholls was too hurt to figure out or care if it was one of his own or the enemy. He blacked out from shock.

* * *

It was a regular day at Downton Abbey, or rather, as regular as it could get with wounded men being brought in and treated everywhere.

Lady Grantham had detested the idea of bringing strange men into their home, but Cora and Robert had welcomed it. The boys were doing so much for their country, the least they could do was provide them with a place to rest and heal.

Lady Sybil had become a nurse for the time being, volunteering to treat the soldiers. Other doctors had come to work at Downton, and now, the large place was bustling with the injured and the medical aids.

Lord Robert Grantham made his way down the stairs with Isis in close trail, putting his hat on and grabbing his walking stick.

"Good morning, dear!" Cora called from the bedside of a soldier. They each visited with a few people now and then, to keep them in good company.

"Morning!" Robert replied, and opened the door. Isis ran out before Robert could get her leash on, and he chased after her through the grass. "Isis! Here girl!" The white lab sniffed around the property, and bounded back to her master.

"Silly girl," Robert laughed as he rubbed her ears. Just then, he heard the sound of a motorcar pulling up at the gates, rolling over the gravel.

Isis turned and began barking, a sort of signal when there were new people. Robert turned, hooked Isis's leash on, and brought her back inside.

"There's new wounded!" he called to the doctors, who got up and headed for the door. He felt like he was living in a domestic M*A*S*H unit. But he had nothing against it, as fore mentioned; he was happy to help in any way he could, since he was too old now to serve.

The doctors rushed out, and went over to the black motorcar. The doors opened, and revealed five injured men. One was yelling in anguish, one was out cold, and the other two were silently coping with the pain as best they could.

"Okay, get them inside," said Dr. Clarkson, cringing from the messy wounds of the bunch. They lifted the stretchers out of the car, and carried them inside. Luckily, they found a few open beds scattered among the healing men, and quickly laid each of them down.

"Let's take a look at who these boys are," he said, and turned out the pockets of the soldiers. "Lt. Blake…. Sgt. Waters…. Cpt. Nicholls…. Alright, start treating them right away!"

Some nurses came, and each gathered around a man. Captain Nicholls was beginning to wake up, and could feel the pain still shooting up his leg.

Am I… still alive? He wondered to himself.

Judging by the sound of people around him, he came to the conclusion that he was quite alive. He squeezed his eyes shut as the pain heightened, and felt tears form in his sapphire blue eyes. He quickly shut them again; he would not be seen like this, not him, a captain of his rank.

But he gave up trying to hide his stabbing injury, since everyone here was in the same situation; wounded and temporarily rather helpless.

He let out a short breath and wiped the sweat from his hairline, short golden hair combed back not-so-neatly anymore. His bed was rolled to a private wing dedicated to the higher officers, where there were sheets draped in between the beds for privacy. As his bed stopped, the doctors by his side quickly wrapped his middle with a thick layer of gauze, much to his escalating discomfort.

His stomach muscles tensed as the bed finally stopped moving, and he could faintly feel more blood oozing out into the wrap. He clenched his fists, and gritted his teeth in attempt to fight the pain.

He was fading in and out as he saw the shadow of a nurse behind the sheet to his wing, and the woman came over beside his bed.

"Shhh, Captain," she whispered, "Relax now. I'm going to take care of you."

Somehow, her voice reassured him to the point of lulling. Her gentle tone soothed him, and he relaxed against the pillow behind his head. He felt her hand on his forearm, silently telling him that everything was going to be okay.

He opened his eyes just enough to see who this woman was. She had chocolate brown hair tied back behind her white nurse's cap, and eyes a radiating green. Her skin was a creamy colour, and James's lips twitched into a smile.

"I'm Nurse Sybil," she said softly, not wanting to raise her voice and hurt his trauma inflicted ears. "I- I'm James," he said, "James Nicholls." She sat down beside the bed. "You have severe damage to your left oblique muscle, Captain Nicholls, as you were shot through it. If you had been left any longer without blood stopping, you would have most likely died."

He looked at her. "I can't thank you enough for what you've done, and, what you're doing." She smiled, and shook her head. "It is not your duty to thank me. This is what I do, this is what _we_ do, to repay brave men like you who fight for us." James just smiled in return, but was hit with another spasm of pain in his leg.

Sybil's face became worried. "You must sleep now, and rest your muscles. If you need anything, there is always someone around." James nodded another soft thank you, and laid his head to the side.

As Sybil turned away from the captain, she bit her lip. As she blinked, all she could see in her closed eyelids was the reflection of his sea blue eyes, staring back at her. She closed the sheet of his wing, and hurried to the next patient. She scolded herself, and forbade her mind to wander back to the new soldier under their care.

But as hard as she tried, her thoughts kept drifting back to his perfectly sculpted jaw, his masculine hands, the rich golden colour of his hair…

Sybil didn't know it, but James was also thinking about the encounter, and the obvious attraction between them. James tried as well to force the thoughts out of his tired mind, in fear of what it would mean for the young woman in her family… but he also knew feelings like these could not be stopped. He knew this was only the beginning.

And at the back of her mind, so did Sybil.


	2. Chapter 2

It was late at night, or early in the morning as some may classify it, and James was having another nightmare. It had been 3 days since he had been taken into care at Downton, and every single night, he had had ritualistic dreams of the close call on the battlefield that landed him here.

He woke up in a cold sweat, hair matted against his forehead. He felt sharp pains down his side, and knew he would have to change the bandage before it was completely soiled. It was exactly 2:39 in the morning, and there were no nurses on duty. I don't need assistance, James thought to himself as he pulled back his covers to check his wound, I'm perfectly capable.

The fire illuminated his sight just enough to see what he was doing. He grimaced at the sight of fresh blood seeping through his binding, but just unravelled it like he knew exactly what he was doing. He tried not to cry out in fear of waking other peacefully sleeping patients, so he bit his tongue as the older, dried blood clung to the bandage. He second guessed himself. Maybe he shouldn't take it off. I mean, what would he do, apply a new one?

He sighed. He'd seen it done by other nurses, so surely he could do it himself, and wouldn't have to bother anyone about it. He gently tore the bandage free, and had to grip the side of the bed tightly to hold back a groan. Suddenly, he heard someone descending down the stairs, and quickly looked up.

It was Sybil, and she still had her nurse uniform on. She noticed that he was awake, and came over. "Why are you still awake?" He asked her, brows knitting. She raised an eyebrow as she sat beside him. "I could ask the same of you," she chuckled, and he smiled. "I just… find it troublesome to go a night without having upsetting dreams." Her smile disappeared. "What about?" He shifted uncomfortably, and she immediately apologized. "I'm so sorry, sir. It wasn't my place-"

James quickly reassured her. "No, no. It's just my damn leg. No, I don't mind. My nightmares are about my near-death experience a few days ago." Sybil looked at him. "A reasonable subject of upset." He laughed quietly. "Yes, I suppose so. I just can't help thinking… what if the bullet had hit its target? What if this had been fatal? And even worse… what if it still could be fatal?"

"Now, don't you dare think like that, Captain. We'll let nothing happen to you_. I'll_ let nothing happen to you." James melted at the sincerity of her words, and the worry disappeared for a moment. "Please," he whispered, "Call me James." She gave a small smile. "Alright… Captain."

He chuckled, and she looked down at his leg. "Have you been tampering around with your bandage?!" He looked at her sheepishly, and she sighed playfully. "What do you think you are, a self-professed doctor? You seem like the kind of man who refuses to accept help unless it is life-threateningly needed!" James smiled. "It seems you've got me spot-on."

"Well, there'll be no more of that here. Make sure you call me when you need a change of bandage, or anything of the sort." James nodded slowly, and thanked her graciously. She got a cool cloth, and softly dabbed it along his forehead, drying his sweat. She felt sympathy toward him, and his whole situation. She could tell it pained him to be so helpless, that he wasn't used to it.

She competently changed his bandage, and pulled the blanket over him again. "Try not to think of anything, Captain," she said quietly as he laid back down against the pillow, "Just go to sleep."

He nodded, and thanked her once again. But as she left and he closed his eyes, he _was_ thinking of something. The astonishing fact that this beautiful, kind woman had bewitched his heart, and in such little time.

* * *

The next day was just as brilliantly sunny as the past few. It seemed that they were getting a spree of good weather, seeing as it was only late April. Sybil woke to the familiar sound of sparrows tweeting outside, and got out of bed to open the curtains. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she smiled, and Cora came through the big doors. "Oh, Mama! Gorgeous day, isn't it?" Sybil asked, and Cora nodded as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Any new soldiers today?" she asked. "No, but the ones we do have are a handful," Cora answered.

"Why do you say that?" "Well, they are quite talkative. Your sister has taken to visiting some of them, to keep them company." "Who, Mary?" "No, Edith. She likes one in particular, this… Lt. Waverly." Sybil breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't James who her sister had taken such interest in.

"But the wounds are getting worse as the war goes on," her mother said thoughtfully, "Have you seen them? And that Captain Nicholls-" Sybil's head shot up at the mention of him, "He's got quite a nasty one. Looks like he'll be here for a while." Sybil nodded slowly, "Yes."

Downstairs, James was occupying himself with a book out of the small pile that had been provided for entertainment. He was quite fond of gothic ghost stories, and was presently engulfed in "The Turn of the Screw."

"It's a good book, isn't it?" A voice said from behind the curtain. James looked up and smiled as he recognized the voice. "It is." Sybil pulled the curtain back and sat on James bed as she had grown to enjoy. "How is your leg feeling?" "It still hurts quite a lot." "Of course. Sorry, that was a silly question." He took a deep breath, and put his hand on top of hers.

"Nothing you say is silly, Miss Sybil." She blushed deeply and turned away. "I'll leave you t-to, um, read then, Captain," she said, nervous and smiling at his touch. She got up, and gave him one last smile before she left. James bit his lip. Does she feel the same about me? he wondered. Am I making a fool of myself?

The day was spent regularly, nurses tending to patients, Robert reading the paper and Cora sipping tea, Lady Mary occasionally dropping by to see what was happening with the soldiers.

As quickly as it had gone, night came again, and James was dreading it. He was tired, and dark circles had begun to form under his eyes from lack of sleep. It was the nightmares keeping him up, he couldn't shake them. The only light in his life, he thought, was the privilege of seeing Lady Sybil every day, and talking with her.

Sybil was growing worried about James. He looked awfully exhausted, and his leg wasn't healing very well. She wished there was something more she could do for the kind man, who had shown her so much affection…

She clenched her jaw at the thought. She must be mistaken. It was simply the fancies of her own imagination that were tricking her to believe he felt for her. But why did he look at her that way, then?

It was late evening when Sybil came for another visit, and all the other nurses had gone to bed. James had finished the book, and had moved on to the next. "Good evening, Captain," she said, and went to change his blankets. "Good evening, Miss Sybil." There was a silence then, which was unusual for them.

"I have something I need…. I need to tell you something," James said, voice cracking slightly at the end. She turned slowly, and sat. "Yes?"

James studied her features, the way her eyebrows curved softly, her lips rosy in the firelight. "I…" Instead of finishing his sentence, he gave in to an overwhelming urge against all of his better judgement, and leaned in and kissed her. Her eyes widened, and everything went rushing through her mind. She worried that someone was watching, that James would be sent away, at how wrong what they were doing was… but the thing that scared her the most was the frighteningly scandalous thoughts she was getting about James, of him holding her as they kissed like this….

She broke away from the kiss roughly, at a loss for words. "I… I should go now," she whispered, and quickly got up and left James in a swirl of love, lust, and strong guilty feelings.

Sybil hurried up the stairs, tears beginning to form in her eyes. She had never felt like this before, about anyone. But it wasn't right! What she just did was incredibly improper, and her head was spinning from it. But she still felt something from it. Her own feelings frustrated her. She didn't know what to think, what to feel…

James was reeling downstairs, surprised beyond belief at his inappropriate act, and extremely guilty at what he had just gotten Sybil into. He cursed himself for not containing his lewd behavior, and squeezed his eyes shut. What would happen now?

* * *

Thoughts floated around like petals in a whirlpool that night, and Sybil was up pacing in her room. She was sure that hers was the only light left on, but she was unable to sleep due to her internal conflict. She knew she loved him. It was undeniable. And now, it was quite evident that James loved her too. How could such a scandalous situation have come about in the length of one night?

The temperature in her room felt unnaturally high, and she fanned herself with her hand.

Suddenly, she heard a cry from downstairs. Immediately, thoughts of the worst came to her, and she grabbed her white uniform to cover her sleeping garments. She rushed down the stairs, and to her horror, she found James writhing in his bed, curtains pulled.

"What is it? What is it?" Sybil breathed, running to his side. Blood was all over the covers and bed, and he was covered in sweat. "James?" her voice wavered as she watched him grit his teeth and suppress screams of agony. She checked him, and realized his wounds were bleeding internally, and the whole wounded side of his body from his oblique to his knee was bruised under the skin. This is what she had feared might happen, and she began frantically preparing something for it.

"S-Sybil?" he hoarsely whispered, "I c-can't feel my leg!"


End file.
